


Blue Lights of a Small Town

by Yvette J (HowNovel)



Category: Starman (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2014-10-03
Packaged: 2017-10-25 16:31:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/272388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HowNovel/pseuds/Yvette%20J
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Paul and Scott are given the opportunity to learn in a very profound way about what it means to be different when they  encounter Svetlana, a Russian exchange student.  Through handsigns and limited communication skills, both father and son are reminded of their own uniqueness through seeing it manifest in others.</p><p>Revised and updated story from original written in 1995.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Lights of a Small Town

  
**Blue Lights of a Small Town**  
By: Yvette J.

Copyright © 1995, revised October 2014. All rights reserved. This story is a work of fiction based on characters and situations created in the 1984 feature film and 1986-87 television series, _STARMAN_. It is an amateur publication circulated without profit for the enjoyment of fellow fans. No infringement of existing copyrights is intended.

 

The sun was high in the sky as Paul Forrester drove towards a small, quiet town.

His son, Scott, was asleep in the passenger seat, his soft sighs filling the solitude of the car. As the teenager was waking up, he blinked the sleep out of his eyes and tried to focus on what was going on around them. “Where are we, Dad?” he asked as he rubbed his eyes.

“Mason Valley, North Dakota, population…” His voice trailed off as his son yawned. “Are you still tired?”

“Nah, it’s just really quiet, not like in Seattle or LA,” Scott said as he stretched uncomfortably in his seat. “I love small towns; they are so friendly and neighborly. Somehow big cities lack that sort of charm.”

Paul nodded, “are you hungry?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Scott said licking his lips. One thing about small towns that the teenager liked was the good home-cooked meals that could be had at local diners. “Can we stop at some place that doesn’t have ‘billions served’ on the sign please? I’m sick of fast food. The center of town should have some good possibilities.” He looked at his father expectantly, all the while hoping that Paul would say ‘yes’ to his suggestion. 

“That was sort of the reason why I decided to drive into town, as opposed to driving around it,” Paul said as he pulled their car into a spot that was along the perimeters town square. “Let’s walk around a little, we can stretch our legs and look for a place to eat.”

Scott undid his seatbelt as Paul cut the motor. As the two of them got out of the car, they began to take in the attributes of the town. In the center was a building with a domed-like top and a gazebo in front of it. All around it were lush green lawns as well as sidewalks. On the opposite side, there were single-lane roads that wound around it. On the opposite side of the road, there were smaller buildings with quaint shops and local businesses. Smatterings of cafés and local hangouts were stationed along the perimeters of the square.

Paul looked down at his watch and noticed that it read earlier than he thought. He looked at the sky and shrugged his shoulders. “Did I reset my watch when we crossed from mountain to central time?” He shook his arm as he glanced down at the numbers before raising his head and looking at his son. “I think my watch stopped.”

“Why?”

“The sun’s position is nearly mid-sky, and my watch says it’s only ten forty,” Paul said.

“There’s a clock at the town hall, we can check there,” Scott suggested and pointed. “There’s an electronics store over there, so if your watch did stop, we can get a new battery.”

Agreeing, the pair walked along the pathway until they reached the front side of the town hall. Seeing the clock that was atop it, Paul nodded. “I forgot to reset it,” he said. “I’ll do that when we get to the restaurant and can sit down.”

“Good idea,” the teenager agreed. “How about eating over there? It looks perfect?”

Paul turned and looked at the place Scott had pointed out and smiled. The small café was between a five and dime store and a laundry house. It had a wooden sign just above the doorway with the words ‘Universal Café’. All around the name were stars and planets painted in yellow over a dark blue background. “That does sound perfect.”

They made their way towards the entrance and opened the door. Once inside, Paul noticed that like out on the street, the place was relatively quiet except for the clatter of plates and silverware from what appeared to be the inside area of a kitchen. The dining area was full, but also quiet. Paul took note of the fact that several college-aged people were seated and hunched over thick textbooks.

Respecting the silence that engulfed the room, Paul and Scott quietly found a table and sat down as the alien glanced around the room. “You know, you could take a few lessons from these people, Scott,” he said as he casually nudged his son.

Recognizing his father’s words as an attempt at humor, Scott offered a somewhat hesitant smile. “You know I like to read.”

Paul returned to his observations, which did not seem like too terribly much. The café was small with about ten or eleven tables scattered throughout a somewhat barren looking room. The tables and chairs were simple wooden structures with what looked to be unfolded cloth napkins covering the center. By in large, it looked to be a rather informal place, which both Paul and Scott liked.

After about five minutes of sitting there, a waitress approached their table. She was dressed in a short dress and had an apron over her clothes. She casually handed them each a menu. “I’ll be back in a minute to get your orders.”

They accepted the proffered menus and Scott began to look at his intently trying to find an inexpensive item to try. Seeing that most of the prices were reasonable, he opted to ordering a double cheeseburger. After he had finished looking at the menu, he placed it on the table and raised his head.

Paul’s menu remained untouched as his attention diverted from the atmosphere back to their table and the small plastic rack in the center of it. He reached over and retrieved a packet of jelly. He could not remember seeing these small packets before and found them to be strange. Retrieving one, he looked down at the flimsy aluminum cover before ripping it off and inspecting the contents. Finding the aroma pleasing, he stuck finger inside and withdrew some of the sticky substance. He then put his finger in his mouth and licked off the sugary substance before looking at his son. “Have you tried this yet?”

Scott shrugged his shoulders, “yeah, jelly usually goes on bread or biscuits.”

“Ah, yes, I knew that,” Paul said as his gaze came to rest on the various tables around the room. “Strange town, seems all people do here is read.”

“You fellas must be strangers here, the local college has mid-terms this week,” a cheerful voice interrupted them.

Paul raised his head and noticed that the waitress was standing beside their table with two glasses of iced water. She placed them on the table before reaching inside her pocket and producing a pencil and notepad. “What’ll you have?”

“Dutch Apple Pie,” Paul said. “What are mid-terms?”

The waitress looked at him strangely before offering a response. “They’re tests, like you used to have in grade-school, only much harder.” She scribbled his order down on the notepad. “Must be from another planet, if you’ve never heard of mid-terms,” she muttered sarcastically as she wrote.

Hearing this, Paul raised his head, “excuse me?”

“Sorry,” she mumbled somewhat embarrassed, but quickly recovered as she continued to stare at the notepad she had been writing on. “Anything to drink?” she asked.

“Coffee,” Paul said.

She turned her attention to Scott, “and you?”

“I’d like a double cheeseburger and an orange soda,” Scott said and once she had finished writing, he handed her the menus.

Accepting them, she made a hasty exit.

“Scott, is she okay?” Paul asked once the young woman was gone.

“She’s fine, just a little embarrassed. People get that way whenever someone comes along and catches them off guard. When you heard what she had said, this made her feel a bit foolish. She obviously didn’t expect you to catch it. They respond by blushing, or their faces turn red.”

“Is it harmful?” Paul asked looking back in the direction the waitress had gone in.

“No, but sometimes it can be humiliating depending on the circumstance,” Scott grinned at his father. _He is really too nice to some people, especially the rude ones,_ he thought as his father’s attention shifted yet again.

Scott followed his father’s gaze and until he noticed that Paul was now staring at the front door of the café.

A young girl, probably about the same age as the other inhabitants of the café was coming through the door with a stack of books in her arms. Paul immediately noticed that there was something different about her. Her mode of dress was unlike anything he had ever seen. Her hair was pulled back by a black and gold painted clip, and her dress looked as though she had stepped off a Broadway play. The books concealed the front of the dress, but what struck him was the blank and unhappy expression that she carried in her eyes.

Scott turned around, his gaze following that of his father. “Whoa, Dad, check out that outfit,” he whispered, “It’s really pretty, isn’t it?”

Paul nodded as the girl walked towards a nearby table. As she got closer the book on the top of the stack she carried started to wobble, and eventually fell off the stack causing a domino effect. Soon, most all of the books had fallen from her arms and crashed to the floor. She scrambled to pick them all up as quietly as she could, but ended up stumbling forward and falling on her hands and knees.

Various heads popped up from around the room followed by jitters of giggles. Paul stood up and in an instant had reached her side. “Are you all right?” he asked.

Sorrowful tears streamed down her cheeks, but she did not appear to even acknowledge his inquiry. Ignoring her silence, he offered his hand to her and when she accepted, he helped her to stand up. Once she was on her feet, she began to dust herself off before reaching for some of the books. Seeing this, Paul began to collect them as well. Once they were all collected, Paul looked at her. “Would you care to join us for lunch?”

She looked at him blankly shaking her head.

Paul smiled. “Oh I see, you don’t understand me, do you?” When she said nothing, he finally pointed to the table where Scott sat. Still holding some of the books, he took one and placed it on their table. _If I knew the language she speaks, I would try and communicate with her._ He thought but continued to mime to her what he wanted to say.

After several moments, she seemed to understand what he was trying to convey and nodded shyly. Paul pulled a chair for her and waited for her sit down. “Thank you,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Paul looked at her, “do you speak any English at all?”

She shook her head. “I-speak-very-bad-English,” she said practically running her words together, in very much the same fashion as Paul had done when first coming to earth. She looked hesitantly at him before lowering her head.

“What language do you speak?” Paul phrased his question very slowly.

She remained silent.

Moments later, the waitress returned with their orders and placed them on the table in front of Paul and Scott. “What would the alien like?” she asked as she turned to the girl and tapped her pencil against the notepad impatiently.

Paul raised his head yet again, “excuse me?”

“No one knows her name, we have to call her something,” the young woman said defensively.

“So you ridicule her instead?” Scott asked. “Did you even bother to ask her what her name is or do you just like to treat people like oddities?”

“Look kid, I’m just trying to do my job,” she said.

“All right then do your job and bring her a cinnamon roll and a cup of hot tea,” Scott snapped.

The waitress nodded and left. Once she was gone, Paul looked at his son, clearly confused. “Why did you get upset with her, Scott?”

“They’re making fun of her, Dad,” Scott said. “The only difference is that she doesn’t understand.”

“Maybe she does,” Paul said. “You can read a great deal in a person’s eyes.”

“Yeah, it sometimes hurts to be different and to feel out of place. I thought this place would be nice, but these people are no better than Fox.” Scott looked over at the silent girl with empathy in his gaze.

Seconds later, the waitress returned with the cinnamon roll and placed it in front of the girl.  
She looked at Scott, “for me?”

“Of course it’s for you,” the teenager said. He, like his father said his words slowly. “What’s your name?” He asked, but before she could respond, he pointed to himself and said his name, and when he pointed to his father, he said ‘Paul’. He was not certain about whether or not she understood, but eventually she spoke, her next words indicating that she did.

“My name is Svetlana.”

Scott nodded, but after several moments, he leaned over and whispered to his father. “Dad, if you know something in Russian then she might understand you. I think she might be from Russia.”

“We’re very pleased to meet you,” Paul said, his Russian syntax unpolished and his words emerging slow and deliberate.

That seemed not to matter because Svetlana’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree, “you speak my language?” she asked weakly. When Paul offered a short nod, she continued. “I have been here for two months and I have not met anyone who could understand me until now.” She smiled and Scott noticed that when she did that, she was really quite beautiful.

“Dad can you tell her that I think she is really pretty?” Scott asked.

Paul translated what Scott had said and Svetlana blushed. “I should work harder at learning English so that we may speak, Scott,” she said softly.

After Paul had once again acted as translator, the waitress approached with a small teapot and placed it in front of Svetlana. “Thank you,” the girl said a little more confidently. She opened the package and with the teabag inside and put it inside the small teapot.

The waitress nodded, “you’re welcome,” she said and walked away.

Once alone, the three of them finished their lunch. Once they had eaten everything, Paul broke the silence, this time speaking in his broken Russian. “Do you study here?” he asked.

“Yes, but only for this term. I do not like it here very much,” she confessed. “The people here stare at me and sometimes call me ‘Alien’. They think I do not notice, but I do. Paul, what does it mean; the term ‘Alien’?”

Upon hearing these words, Paul’s eyes grew wide and once he had translated her words to Scott, the teenager sat unable to move. After several moments, Paul translated the word into Russian for Svetlana.

Nodding, the young girl could feel the tears catching in her eyes. “I knew I was a freak for coming here, but I had to,” she said with an unhappy sigh. “In my home there is a war and here people do not know of it, they only see what their eyes convey.”

Upon understanding what the young girl had been through, Scott found himself caught up in his own disturbing thoughts. Seconds later, he felt a hand covering his own and he raised his head to see that Svetlana had rested hers on top of his. 

“It is okay, Scott,” she said as she patted his hand gently. “Please don’t be sad for me.”

The teenager looked at her and nodded.

She watched him for a moment, all the while wishing that she was better able to communicate with him. He seemed so different from all the others she had met on her journey to America. The fact that he did not seem to mind her inability to speak English made it easier for her. Especially considering the fact that she was often ridiculed for not being very good with the language. Small towns were like that, her advisor in Russia had told her, but she was been determined to try. More than anything, she wanted to belong. She closed her eyes momentarily as her thoughts continued to drift. She would not be able to return home until the end of the term. That meant that she would have to stay strong and keep going.

Meeting Paul and Scott had helped her more than she realized. Paul spoke some Russian, and although Scott could not, he showed an interest in getting to know her. That meant more to her than the general negativity that she had often endured.

The waitress approached the table once more. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

“No,” Paul said, but turned towards the girl. “Would you like anything else?”

“No,” she began, “but thank you very much, Paul.”

“Svetlana doesn't want anything else,” Paul said kindly as his gaze shifted to his son. “What about you, Scott, are you still hungry?”

Scott shook his head, “no, I’m fine.”

The waitress ripped off the top sheet of her notepad and put it on the table. “What language were you speaking?” she asked as her natural curiosity took over.

“Russian,” Paul answered.

Scott raised his head and looked up at her, “her name is Svetlana, not ‘Alien’.”

The waitress nodded and walked away while Paul placed some money on the table for the bill and they all stood up. “We are leaving town now, Svetlana, is there anyplace we can take you?” he asked.

She looked back at him, “maybe to the library?” She began to pick up her books, and Scott grabbed some of them to carry for her. They left the restaurant together.

As they were leaving, Scott started to wonder how it was that Svetlana could attend school without speaking much of the language. He shrugged his shoulders, and dismissed the thought as they made their way outside.

When they reached the parking lot, Paul went over and opened the driver’s side door, and Scott opened the back seat door for Svetlana. After everyone had piled into the car, Paul started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot.

He drove down the street towards the local college while Svetlana gave him the exact directions to the library. Along the way, she pointed out places that she liked as Scott watched intently, wanting to learn as much about her as he could.

As they reached the large marble colored library, Paul pulled to the side of the street and Scott got out of the car in order to open the back door for her. Once she disembarked, she turned around and looked at Scott fondly. Seconds later, he leaned into the backseat and retrieved her stack of books.

Once he had handed them to her, both father and son watched as she walked across the street towards the building. As she reached the stairs that would lead inside, a group of about five or six boys were standing and blocking her path. Just as she was about to reach the door and open it, one of them reached out and grabbed hold of her arm.

“Hey Alien, where ya going?” he slurred his words emerging as though he had been drinking and she could smell the alcohol on his breath. The books she carried fell from her arms and hit the ground.

Three other boys began to laugh as the first boy began to pull her away from the building and towards the stairs leading back in the direction she had just come in.

Fearfully, she began to pull on her arm trying to get away from the group, but they had literally surrounded her and the one holding her arm was much stronger than she was. After several moments of trying to escape from them, she began to cry out hysterically in Russian. “Help me, someone, please!”

Paul was still standing next to the car and watching the confrontation taking place. Instead of getting in the car, he looked at his son. “Svetlana’s in danger, Scott, she’s crying for help. Stay here, I’m going to try and help her.” With that, he took off across the street and over towards the building. Rather than listen to his father’s instructions, Scott followed, but did so at a safe distance.

By the time Paul had reached the group, he extended his hand towards where the boy was holding Svetlana’s arm. Without thinking he grabbed the boy’s hand and gripped it tightly. This caused the boy to turn around and pull his hand out of Paul’s hold. “What do you want?” he slurred. “Don’t you know this is my girlfriend?”

“If she’s your girlfriend, why is she screaming for help?” Scott asked approaching the group. Paul put his hand up to silence his son.

“You mean you understand her?” the boy chortled. “Here I thought she only talked gibberish.”

Paul looked at the group of boys. “Why don’t you just let her go? She has done nothing to you.”

The boy pushed Svetlana roughly away before turning and looking at Paul. “This is none of your business, pal. Why don’t you just get lost?” He stumbled towards Paul as though he was going to push him.

The three other boys started to move towards their leader. This left Svetlana unguarded and free to run away, but instead of doing anything she stood practically rooted to the ground and unable to move.

Instead, Scott took the incentive and ran towards her, grabbed her hand, and took off in the direction of the double doors that led inside the library.

By the time the boys had realized what had happened, Scott and Svetlana had made it inside and the doors had closed behind them.

The boys were ultimately left standing on the sidewalk with Paul. None of them looked particularly pleased, but instead of confronting him, they began to disperse. Once they were gone, the alien was left staring after them, his eyes watching as they went their separate ways.  
  
---  
  
Svetlana was crying openly by the time they had taken sanctuary inside the library. Tears of isolation continued to stream down her cheeks freely as they slowed their pace and went through the turnstiles and into the far recesses of the building.

Periodically, Scott glanced around to see if the boys were still behind them. Discovering that they were not, the teenager released a pent up sigh. Moments later, they had reached the back of the library, and Scott sat down on the floor. “Are you okay?” he asked, all the while remembering to speak slowly and softly.

Svetlana slowly released his hand, but sank to the floor completely out of breath. Those boys were by far the worst part of coming to this country. They were always cruel to her and they made it known that she was not welcome there.

Scott reached over and rested his hand comfortingly on her shoulder. “Would it help if I told you that I know exactly how you feel?” he asked. Although his words had emerged slower than he normally spoke, he could tell that she did not understand. Sighing deeply, he reached over and took one of her hands in his. When he held it, he moved his second hand so that he could gently press her hand between both of his. _Somehow, I have to make you understand that I know how you feel._ He thought sadly.

His mind began to drift and he suddenly remembered how his father was out there facing the conflict all by himself. _I should at least find out if he’s okay,_ he thought as he dug into his pocket and pulled out his sphere.

As he looked down at it, he could not even feel a sensation that told him his father was all right. Now that he and Svetlana were safe, he was starting to worry that the group of boys would try to overpower his innocent father. “Svetlana,” he began to speak, “stay here, I will be right back. I have to see if my dad’s okay.” He looked at her hoping that she could at least understand what he was saying.

She nodded and watched as he stood up and started to walk back towards the front of the library constantly looking around to make certain that the boys were not in the vicinity.

When he reached the front door, he checked to see if any of the boys were surrounding the door. He was surprised to discover that they were gone as though nothing had happened. He stepped hesitantly outside and walked over to where a lone figure was standing by the curb. When he recognized it as being his father, he broke into a run. “Dad,” he called out. “Are you okay?”

Paul turned around and faced his son. “Yes, the boys are now gone. They left after you and Svetlana ran inside. Where is she?”

Scott motioned back in the direction of the building. “She’s still inside, I left her there to come and find you. I think we should get back to her, though, I have this feeling that she’s pretty shaken up.”

Paul nodded in agreement.

Unbeknownst to either of them, a police car had stopped on the street and the two officers had seen the confrontation outside the library. They radioed back to the headquarters in order to report the incident that they had just witnessed, as well as the two strangers who had offered aid to the young girl.

“Stay where you are and report back if those gangsters return. If they do, then get their identification cards and see if they are enrolled at the college. If not, bring them in,” the message came back.

The passenger in the car sighed, grabbed a bag and opened it to reveal two giant sized donuts. “Which one you want?”

The driver selected the bigger of the two. “We’re in for quite a wait,” he mused as he grabbed a Styrofoam cup of coffee and pulled off the lid.  
  
---  
  
Back inside the library, Paul and Scott were looking for Svetlana. First, they checked to see if she was in the same area that Scott had left her in, but upon reaching it, they discovered that she was gone. “Dad, what if we don’t find her?”

Paul shook his head, “I don’t know, but we can’t stay here much longer, our last escape from Fox was only a town away. He’ll eventually show up here looking for us. I think it would be safer if we left.”

“But we can’t just leave her. Something horrible nearly happened to her. If we run off now, then she will be all alone, and I think being alone is something that Svetlana knows about all too well. Please, we have to find her and at least make sure she’s okay.”

“I know and she wants to communicate with you, but doesn’t really know how.” Paul squeezed his son’s shoulder. It was during moments such as these that the gentle alien wished that he could give his son a normal life instead of forcing him into living on the run as a fugitive.

“Does she really?” Scott stopped walking and turned to face his father.

“Yes,” Paul said. “Sometimes people indicate more by their actions than they do with their words. Svetlana’s feelings are very strong and I can sense her overwhelming desire to communicate.”

“Is there a reason behind why she doesn’t speak English?” Scott asked. “Or can she?”

Paul shook his head, “she doesn’t speak very much, but she knows a lot more than she thinks she does. It would seem that she feels much safer speaking Russian. We can’t expect her to speak English, but I think she’ll eventually understand that a little is better than absolutely none.” He took a deep breath and released it in an unhappy sigh. “Unfortunately, her ability with the language does not explain or excuse the reactions that she has been getting from the townspeople. They are not neighborly as you described earlier, some of them are really quite cruel. They do not exercise patience with those who are different. Instead, they speak unkind words about her because they think she doesn’t understand. This form of intolerance is very sad.”

“I know,” Scott said sighing deeply. “I guess seeing as we can’t find her, we might as well go. I don't want Fox to catch us here and I don’t want Svetlana to get caught up in our problems.” In the back of his mind, the teenager could not help but wonder if the girl would understand why they just disappeared without even saying ‘good-bye’.

They walked towards the front of the library and out the front doors into the bright sunshine. Scott kept his eyes open for any sign of Svetlana, but he did not see her anywhere. They crossed the wide street leading to their car and got in as Paul started the engine.

After he drove a couple of blocks, Scott looked intently out the window and noticed her running down one of the side streets. “Stop, Dad, I see her!”

Paul pulled the car against the curb and once he stopped, Scott got out. “I’ll be back in a minute. I just want to say ‘good-bye’.” Paul nodded and Scott ran away from the car and after her. “Svetlana!” he shouted as he ran towards her unsuspecting back.

She turned around. “Scott,” she said softly as he approached. She was smiling once he had reached her side and had extended her hand out to him. Seconds later, her smile faded when she saw a car barreling down the street and running straight towards them. Without hesitating, she began to scream out in Russian. “Scott, look out!”

She dove to one side of the street as the car careened past, but Scott did not understand until he watched her actions and then saw the car.

Scott’s eyes locked with those of the four boys in the car. He knew that they probably knew precisely what it was they were doing, and seemed to have no problems with it. Moments later, the car rammed into him and sent him flying over the hood. He fell to the ground and lay on the side of the street as the four boys drove away laughing.

After they turned the corner at the end of the street, Svetlana ran over to where Scott was lying. Her eyes were brimming with tears, and she did not know what to do. She sat down on the ground next to him, cupped his face in her hands, leaned down, and kissed him tenderly. He was still breathing, she could feel his breath against her cheek, but she could also see that he was not conscious and there were traces of blood on his forehead and scrapes where he had landed on the ground.

She began to cry bitterly as she hovered over his still body.

At that moment, Paul had reached them. He had seen the boys driving towards the two young people and then heard Svetlana’s screams. He placed his hand on Scott’s forehead, and sighed deeply.

She looked at Paul as the tears streamed down her cheeks. “It’s my fault, he didn’t understand me,” she told him sadly. “If only I had spoken in English, then none of this would have happened.”

“We cannot place blame right now,” Paul said gently. “We have to get him to a safe place.” At that moment, he could hear the sounds of an approaching police cruiser and carefully picked his son up off the ground and carried him back over to his car.

Svetlana followed all the while trying to remember the directions to the nearest hospital. When they reached the car, Paul laid his son in the back seat closed the door, and opened the front door.

Svetlana opened the passenger side door and looked up at him. Once their eyes locked, she realized that she was probably the only person who could help them and that he wanted her to come along. She got in the car and buckled herself in as Paul got behind the wheel. “Svetlana, can you give me directions to your home?”

“My home?” she asked clearly confused. “But, Paul, Scott needs a doctor. We should call the police and get him to a hospital.”

Paul turned and looked at her, his gaze laced in intensity. “Please, you must trust me; I need directions to a safe place and the only place I can think of is where you live. We can’t call the police, but I can promise you that everything will be all right.”

Svetlana nodded but turned around in the seat and reached for Scott’s limp hand. “Okay,” she conceded.

She began to give Paul the directions to her small apartment. It was only a few blocks and within about five minutes, they had arrived.  
  
---  
  
Back at the library, the two policemen reported seeing the two strangers that were in town. One was a man in his late 30’s and the other a teenager.

“A man and a teenager?” another voice emerged this one a shrill sounding bark. “Did you talk to them?”

“No, but who are you, and what are you doing intercepting police radio signals,” the passenger reached for radio receiver.

“I’m George Fox, FSA,” he said. “I am not intercepting your signals, I am at the stationhouse speaking with your superiors and I would appreciate your full cooperation.” He then proceeded to repeat the question.

“Sorry,” the driver said. “My partner was just asking the same question I had. To answer your question, no we just saw them outside the college library trying to help a foreign exchange student who had been confronted by a gang. The boy and girl somehow managed to get away by running into the library, but the man was left standing on the curb with the boys. Next thing we know, three of the four boys run off and the leader is left staring at the man with dumb look on his face.”

“What happened to the man?” Fox wanted to know.

“Nothing, he stood there for a few minutes and then the teenager came back outside and started talking to him. A few seconds later, the two of them went back inside, and the girl came out. She looked pretty shaken, but before we could find out if she was okay, she had run off as though she had seen a ghost. We stayed where we were and then watched as the man and boy came back outside and walked over to a light brown Ford Escort and drove away.”

“Did you get the license number on their car?” Fox asked.

“Yes, North Dakota plates 453xyt,” the passenger recited from a slip of paper that was on the dashboard.

“I want a full surveillance on the man and the teenager. They are fugitives and considered dangerous,” Fox said. “Have there been any reports of strange occurrences here in town?”

“What sort of strange occurrences?” the driver asked. “This is a college town, Mr. Fox, and strange occurrences are a dime a dozen around here.”

“By strange, I mean specifically blue lights,” Fox said.

“No we haven’t had any reports of anything like that,” the policeman said as he looked at his partner and pointed his index finger to his temple. There he began twirling his finger around his head in a circular motion.

His partner grinned and nodded. “How dangerous are they?” he eventually asked asked.

“I’m afraid that’s classified,” Fox said.

“The charge is classified?” the policeman asked.

“Yes,” Fox responded, his voice leaving little room for argument.

“All right Mr. Fox, we’ll let you know if we see anything else, but the girl who was with them, is she in any danger?” he asked.

“Possibly,” Fox said noncommittally.

He looked at his partner with a grimace. This has got to be a joke; he mouthed pointing to the radio. The two people they saw had prevented the gang from abducting the girl. How could they be considered a danger or a threat?

“Okay, we’ll stay on surveillance and report back if we see anything else happen,” the policeman said, but in the back of his mind, he concluded that it was the perfect time for them to take an extended coffee break.  
  
---  
  
After they had reached Svetlana’s apartment, Paul carried Scott inside. She moved the books off the couch so he could lay the teenager down. As soon as he was resting comfortably, she left the living room to get some blankets and pillows so she could make Scott as comfortable as possible.

While she was gone, Paul kneeled beside his son and dug in his pocket and produced his sphere. Before he could concentrate on it, Svetlana returned with the blankets and pillows.

She rested a pillow gently behind Scott’s head and covered him with the blanket. After that she kneeled beside Paul and spoke, her voice a soft whisper as she rested her hand against the teenager’s forehead. “This is my fault.”

“No, Svetlana, it’s not your fault, I don’t blame you and neither does Scott,” Paul said softly.

“H-how do you know, h-he’s unconscious?” she managed to speak as the tears began to stream down her cheeks once again. She moved her hand and began to caress Scott’s taunt face. The compassion was apparent in her eyes and if there was any such thing as instant attraction, this was it.

Paul looked at her sadly, he knew that as soon as he healed Scott, they would have to leave and he was not quite sure he would be able to do so without explaining his presence there. He stood up and walked over to the window and looked cautiously outside. He had to find a way to get her out of the room so he could use the sphere and help Scott. He was not really certain as to how she would react if she learned the truth about them. Looking back at her, he realized that now would probably not be a good time to explain, but perhaps later, he could.

“Can you go get some medicine for Scott?” Paul asked hoping she would go without any questions.

She nodded, stood up, and dusted herself off. She then went over to the table and grabbed her purse before walking slowly to the door, opened it, and stepped outside.

Once she closed the door firmly behind her, Paul glanced over towards the window to make certain that she was gone. Noting this, he drew the curtains together, and once more kneeled down beside his son, his sphere held tightly in his hand.

He began to concentrate on it and soon the object grew transparent in his hand and emanated blue light. As the band of light centered itself on Scott’s injuries, the teenager’s eyes eventually opened and he moaned and shifted his weight uncomfortably.

“What happened?” he asked groggily.

“You were hit by a car,” Paul responded before asking a question of his own. “Are you okay?”

Scott wearily nodded, “yeah, I feel really weak, but otherwise I’m okay.” He turned his attention towards the door before looking back over at his father. “Did you tell Svetlana the truth about us?” he asked his voice barely above a whisper.

Paul shook his head, “no, I didn’t say a word, why?”

“She’s standing behind you,” Scott said as he raised his arm to point, but was unable to do so and it wearily fell back against his side.

Paul turned around slowly and saw Svetlana standing frozen in the doorway. Her eyes were wide but she said nothing. She grasped the sides of the doorframe with both hands hoping that it would provide her with more stability than what she felt. The word ‘alien’ flashed through her mind and she took a deep breath. Instead of immediately speaking, she turned around and closed the door. Calmly, she walked over to a chair near them and sat down. If the young woman was afraid, then she was doing very little to show it.

“Are you afraid of us?” Paul began to speak.

She nodded slowly, “alien.” She pronounced the strange English word slowly and carefully. When Paul offered a confirming nod, she backed up somewhat. “You’re different, just like me,” she began, her voice trembling slightly. “Not like me, but...” her voice trailed, and after several seconds, she began to repeat the groups of words.

Scott sat up and slowly crawled off the couch and slowly made his way over to her. “Are you all right?” he asked as he reached over and grabbed one of her hands.

Svetlana nodded her head; she somehow understood that Scott was more concerned for her than for himself. She looked at him, and it was obvious to everyone in the room, that for her, he was all that mattered. “I-I think you are very special, Scott,” was all she said.

Paul translated, and Scott’s face radiated joy.

Before any one of them could say another word, loud banging noises suddenly interrupted them and when Paul raised his head, he could see that George Fox was outside banging his fist against the window. Seconds later, two uniformed policemen somehow managed to open the door and came charging into the room.

Despite her initial fears, Svetlana reached out and grabbed Scott’s hand before practically dragging him through the small apartment and out the back door. She kept her hold on the teenager’s hand until they had reached a small wooded area, which separated the apartment complex from a children’s playground.

When Scott turned around to make sure his father was still behind him, he groaned when he realized that they were now alone. He looked at Svetlana, disappointment clouding his features. “Now, what am I going to do?” he muttered more to himself than to her.

Svetlana patted Scott’s hand comfortingly. She knew that whatever she said would probably not help, but eventually, she pointed to the spot where Scott was standing and slowly began to walk away. Scott reached out towards her but she put her finger over her lips, and pointed to the ground.

He understood; she wanted him to wait where he was.

She walked back in the direction of the apartment complex. En route to it, she ran into her neighbor, a young many named Max. “Hey, where are you off to in such a rush?” the young man asked with a smile. Like Paul and Scott, he addressed her speaking slowly.

“Hi Max,” she said.

“What’s going on? Why are the cops raiding your apartment?” Max asked, but emphasized his point by pointed to the police car that was parked nearby.

Svetlana shrugged her shoulders, but also shook her head. She was not certain if she could explain something like this, specifically when she could not understand it either. She lowered her head remembering what she had seen Paul do, but also silently reminding herself that people had treated her like an oddity for less than that.

“No matter, I need to do my laundry, but if you need anything, let me know.” Max motioned towards the basket that sat near his feet before pointing in the direction of the washroom.

Svetlana nodded, she understood what he had said. This caused her to smile, but only briefly.

The young man walked away and Svetlana made her way back in the direction of her apartment. As soon as she opened the door, the two policemen were practically on top of her, their guns drawn and pointed at her.

“What’s going on?” Svetlana spat her words out at the policeman, but given his clueless expression, she knew that he could not understand her. “I have heard such stories of things like this happening in Russia, but never here.”

Paul sat motionless on the sofa handcuffed and under the watchful eye of George Fox. “What was that you just said?” he demanded as he looked at her suspiciously. When she said nothing, he looked at her, infuriated.

All Svetlana could do was to shake her head. Eventually, she looked at Paul and addressed him in Russian. “Scott is okay, and I will help you as best I can. Don’t say anything; just pull on the sleeve of your shirt if you understand me.”

Paul wordlessly did as she instructed as he raised his head and his eyes locked with hers.

“Forrester, what did she just say to you?” Fox demanded when he saw the Starman making eye contact with the girl.

Paul just shook his head, “I don’t know. I don’t speak her language.” He knew that he did not like lying, but he was also fully aware that this was the only way that he could protect Svetlana from being persecuted by the agent. 

“Then why was she just talking to you like an old friend?” Fox challenged.

Paul shifted his weight and looked at Fox. This was not working like he intended, so he decided to go about it with an entirely different approach. “Okay, Mr. Fox, I lied, I do speak some of her language.”

“And what did she say, not just to you but when she first came in?” Fox demanded.

“She said that you have invaded her apartment without any legal justification,” Paul said. “Define ‘Gestapo’?”

Fox lost his temper at the alien’s impudent words and he turned to his assistant. “Wylie, I want a translator in here right away.”

Wylie simply looked at his superior. “Mr. Fox, how can I find a translator out here? I mean; we’re not exactly at the UN. Besides, we don’t even know what language she’s using.”

As the two agents spoke, Paul had managed to reach for a slip of paper and a pen. He scribbled some words on it, but kept his head raised as he watched the two agents conversing. He was hopeful not only that it was legible, but also that Svetlana would be able to take it and deliver it to his son.

Fox decided to try a different approach. “Young lady, I want you to start speaking English, understand?”

Svetlana remained silent; she was still shaking her head.

“What’s wrong with this girl? Doesn’t she understand a word I say?” It was apparent that the agent was getting angrier and angrier at the situation he was being forced into. She obviously did not understand, but he was not certain as to how much English she could understand and how much of her language the alien understood. “Forrester, tell her she’d better cooperate with us or we will arrest her as an accessory.”

Paul looked at Fox, his calm sounding voice once more filling the room. “Mr. Fox, she does not speak any English. She is a visitor to your country and should be treated with respect.” He stopped speaking English and turned to Svetlana addressing her in Russian. “I think you should go before you get into trouble here,” he said as he reached out to her and squeezed her hand. As he held her hand, he discretely passed the small scrap of paper to her.

Upon releasing Paul’s hand, Svetlana stuck her hand in the pocket of her dress and left the slip of paper in its recesses. She then turned around and looked at Fox, before offering a casual wave. She then grabbed her purse and turned with the intention of leaving.

“Where is she going?” Fox demanded.

“I don’t know, I told her she should go, so now she’s leaving,” Paul responded.

Fox nodded as one of the policemen opened the front door so that Svetlana could walk back outside.

Once she had left the apartment and closed the door behind her, she walked in the direction that she had seen Max go in. When she reached the laundry room, she looked around to see if Max was around. When she could not find him, she decided that it would be best for her to get the note to Scott.

She glanced back to see if she was being followed before breaking into a run and trying to get to the park where Scott was waiting. When she finally reached where he was waiting, she realized that she should not have left him alone for such a long duration of time. “I’m sorry, I took so long,” she said as a greeting, but extended the note to him. “This is for you.”

Scott looked deeply into her eyes, but accepted the note she offered. “Thank you,” he said as he unfolded the note and began to read his father’s uneven handwriting.

Svetlana looked over Scott’s shoulder hoping to understand what had been written, but eventually resolved herself to not understanding any of it.

_Get someone to steal our car. Trust me, Scott._

_Who could steal the car?_ Scott wondered as he began to scratch his head. _That means I would have to find someone who can drive,_ he thought as he looked over at Svetlana, and smiled. He put his hands up as though grasping a steering wheel.

Svetlana looked at him through wide eyes. “I don’t understand,” she whispered, but began to mimic Scott’s movements hoping that it would help her comprehend what he was trying to convey to her.

Suddenly Scott decided to provide some kind of sound effects with his movements. “Vrooooooom...Beep, Beep.” He pounded his hands in the center of an imaginary steering wheel.

Svetlana smiled upon hearing the sounds coming from Scott, but pointed to herself and shook her head. “I cannot,” she whispered.

Scott put his hands down by his side, walked over to the wooden bench nearby and sat down, all the while unsure of what to do next. How can he find someone to take the car if she could not drive?

Svetlana came over to him, grabbed his hand, and tried to pull him to his feet. She knew of just the person who could help them. She put her finger over her lips and led him back in the direction of the building where she lived.

Scott followed and eventually, they reached the laundry room. Once they entered the small room, he ducked behind the machines, which were facing Svetlana’s apartment.

She looked around the room and there, standing in front of a washing machine, stood Max. “Max?”

The young man looked up and smiled when he saw her coming towards her.

Svetlana looked back at Scott who was crouched by her feet. “Scott,” she said as she pulled on his arm and made him visible to the other young man.

Max looked at them, but eventually spoke. “What’s going on?” he demanded. “Who are you?”

Scott extended his hand. “I’m Scott; I’m a friend of hers.”

Max nodded, “okay, so?”

Svetlana reached over and grabbed the note out of Scott’s hand. She handed it to Max. “Max, you help?” she asked in broken English.

Max shook his head, “I don’t have time for this; I have to get my place ready for my folks. They’re going to be here tomorrow and I have a lot of work to do.” He turned and faced Scott. “I guess you can translate for her.”

Scott shook his head. “No, I can’t I don’t speak Russian.”

Max turned and looked at them skeptically. “Then how do you know what she’s saying?”

Scott shook his head. “I don’t, but my dad does.”

“Does this have anything to do with all the cops in front of the building?” Max asked. “I saw them arriving, and it looks like a story straight out of ‘Dragnet’. Why don’t you fill me in?”

Scott took a deep breath. “I don’t know what to say, they got my dad in there and we need some help.”

“Help, in what way?” Max asked. “I mean; how can I help your dad? If he broke the law then there is very little I can do.” Max grabbed his basket as though he was about to leave the laundry room.

“Please you’re our only hope. My dad didn’t do anything wrong, please, Max, you’ve got to help us.”

“Okay, so what do you want me to do?” he asked.

“Steal our car?” Scott answered more as a question than as a response.

Max looked at both of them as though they had flipped out and were in need of psychiatric care. “Is this some kind of joke?” he finally asked.

Scott shook his head and pulled the spare keys out of his pocket. “We need you to drive the car, and I’ll be hiding in the backseat.”

Max broke into a grin. “If this is a joke, then it’s a pretty elaborate one. Okay, kid, you’re on. Where are we to meet your father?”

“I don’t know,” Scott answered. “I don’t really know the area around here so well. We should probably meet in some secluded place.”

“The park,” Svetlana offered, “one hour?”

“Good idea, it is secluded enough there, and I can leave the car next to the jungle gym,” Max agreed. “One hour sounds good to me.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to get us away from them?” Scott asked.

“Are you kidding? I can outrun just about anyone,” he smirked and pulled a heavy metal cassette out of his pocket. “You have a cassette deck in that car, I presume?”

Scott nodded.

“Well, let’s rock,” he said. “Where’s the car?”

“Follow me, this way,” Scott said as he pointed back in the direction of the parking lot.

“Let’s go,” Max said as he dropped his basket on the washing machine. “This ought to be a hoot.”

Scott turned and looked at Svetlana. “You need to stay here and help my father out when the car takes off, okay?” He grabbed her hand, but smiled encouragingly as he dropped his sphere in her hand. “Don’t worry; my father will know what to do.”

Svetlana nodded, as Scott and Max headed for the parking lot. Once she was alone, she looked down at the object that was now resting in her hand. _Scott trusts me,_ she thought as a small smile graced her lips. She turned around and watched as Max and Scott had reached the parking lot.

Instead of contemplating this any further, she placed the sphere inside her pocket and calmly walked back in the direction of her apartment. Taking a deep breath, she began to nervously fish her key out of her pocket and swallowed the lump that had formed unconsciously in her throat. She was frightened, but she knew what it was she had to do.

Reaching the door, she suddenly heard a crunch of gravel and the squealing of tires. She knew beyond a doubt that Scott and Max had gotten to the car and had taken off.

Within seconds, the door swung open, George Fox and two policemen rushed out nearly knocking her off her feet.

Fox looked sternly into her eyes but said nothing. Instead, he ran to his own car, practically diving into the driver’s seat. He started his car and took off after Max and Scott.

The two policemen got in their prospective cars and soon gave chase as well. Svetlana eventually found herself standing alone in front of her apartment door. Calmly, she opened it and walked inside.  
  
---  
  
At that moment, Scott and Max were speeding through the small town with Fox hot on their tail and after trying to shake the agent several times; Max was beginning to get anxious. “Man this guy’s like a bloodhound,” he said, but instead of commenting further, he cranked the stereo up a few notches.

Scott kept his attention on the car behind them. Suddenly, he had an idea. “Hey can you get out on the highway?” he shouted over the music.

Max nodded, “yeah, what do you have in mind?”

Scott pointed out the nearest highway entrance. “I noticed that these exits can be kind of easy to miss. You know this area, right?”

Max nodded, “yeah, I grew up around here.”

“Fox obviously doesn’t know the area like you do, so maybe we should use that to our advantage,” Scott said.

“Good idea kiddo, this should be a lot of fun,” he said with a laugh as he sped towards the interstate. When he reached and looked at the rear-view mirror, he could see that Fox was still behind them. “Not for long,” he muttered.

Scott remained low in the backseat, but could not hide his amusement at Max’s expressions. It was odd that the young man was so willing to put his freedom on the line for strangers, but he had to admit that this was fun and the young student was obviously having a blast.

Max drove onto the highway and sped up to be in the flow of traffic. Seconds later, they abruptly cut across the two other lanes of traffic in order to make it to the next exit.

Instead of following, Fox remained on the highway but sped up. Seconds later, he could see the Starman’s car crossing the overpass and heading back in the direction of town. He pulled to the side of the road and banged his fist on the steering wheel. The next exit would not be for several miles and he was now stuck.

Suddenly someone tapped lightly on his window and he rolled it down. The policemen had pulled up behind him and they had gotten out of the car, and had approached his. “What happened?” one of them asked.

Fox just scowled and banged his fist again. “Let’s get back there before it escapes,” he snapped angrily starting his car.

The policemen looked at each other strangely before walking back to their car. _He got outsmarted by a kid, wait’ll the guys back at the stationhouse hear about this._ One of them was thinking. The other officer could not conceal a smirk, _this guy really needs to switch to decaf._  
  
---  
  
Back at the apartment, Paul was still sitting on the couch. Wylie was guarding him with one of the policeman. He could not help but notice that Wylie had pulled the sphere from his pocket and was rolling it around in the palm of his hand. “How does this thing work?” he eventually asked.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Paul answered. He was glad that Fox had rushed out of the room, but he knew with the two men guarding him as well as the handcuffs, there would be very few means in which for him to escape. Who knew when Fox would return, or if he would have his son with him? His main concern now was for his son and he hoped that no matter what happened to him, that Scott would be okay.

A second later the door swung open and Svetlana stepped inside. Wylie said nothing to her, and the policeman appeared to be somewhat taken aback by her sudden appearance, specifically since she had made such a hasty exit before. Instead of speaking to either of them, she rushed over to Paul and began to address him in Russian.

“Are you all right?” she asked as she put her hand on his shoulder.

“Yes,” Paul answered.

Her hand reached into her pocket and she palmed the sphere. _I remember he made some kind of magic with this marble,_ she thought, _but I don’t know how it can help him now._ She pulled her hand out of her pocket and discreetly passed the sphere on to him.

One he held the object in his hand, Paul offered a grateful smile to the young woman. As the room filled with light, the handcuffs suddenly fell off and clattered to the floor. “Grab the handcuffs,” Paul instructed.

By this time Svetlana had done what he had asked of her, Wylie had looked up and saw that Paul was holding a glowing sphere in his hand. Fearfully, he allowed the second one to fall to the floor.

Without missing a beat, the young woman dropped to her knees and groped about for the second sphere. Once she had recovered it, she handed it back to Paul. “I would like you to translate for me,” she said.

Paul nodded as he placed both spheres in his pocket and Svetlana began to speak to the two strangers who were in her apartment. “She would like me to translate for her,” he addressed the two men who had been guarding him. “Mr. Fox asked me if I could understand her, the answer is yes I can, and this is what she wants you to know: ‘I want you out of here or I will contact your supervisors and file a formal complaint against you’.”

Paul stopped and she continued. When she stopped again, she went over and opened the front door.

“You should not barge into peoples’ homes like this and if it happens again, I will call every Russian newspaper and tell them the story of how American law enforcement storms into the homes of other people.”

Wylie looked at Svetlana in complete horror and rushed outside with the policemen nodding and walking slowly outside. One of them mumbled an apology to Svetlana and tipping his hat as he left.

Paul looked at Svetlana and smiled at her. “Are you all right?”

She nodded. “I think so,” she said smiling.

“I just wanted to thank you so much for everything you have done,” he said softly, and then added with a smile, “from one ‘alien’ to another.”

Svetlana began to giggle. Somehow being called an ‘alien’ was no longer such a bad thing; in fact, it was now considered a badge of honor to the young Russian student. She started to lead him outside. “We have to meet them at the park.”

“Them?” Paul asked.

“Yes, my neighbor Max drove the getaway car.”

Paul smiled and followed her quickly in the direction of the park. Just before reaching it, she had stopped walking and was now looked at him. “What is it Svetlana?” he eventually asked.

“Nothing, it’s just that you are so different than others that I have met,” she said.

“As are you, but it’s not such a bad thing, is it?”

She shook her head. “Paul, we will always be friends, won’t we?”

“Yes, I think we will,” he said.

“Even if we’re separated by distance?” she asked.

“Yes, even then.”

Seconds later, they arrived at the park and began to walk casually through it in the direction of the parking lot. When Paul stepped into a clearing and saw his son, he smiled with obvious relief.

Without warning, Scott rushed towards his father, the matching expression of relief evident in his eyes. “Thank God you’re okay.”

“Yes, I can say the same for you,” Paul said smiling.

“Wasn’t that a great escape?” Scott asked.

“Yes, but let’s not let it happen again. I think we’ve had enough close calls for one day,” Paul said. He extended his hand to Max and smiled. “Thank you for helping us,” he said as he shook the young man’s hand. “You don’t even know us and you put yourself at risk for our sakes.”

“No sweat, dude,” Max said casually. “Just try and stay out of trouble.”

Paul nodded and his attention shifted to Svetlana. “You’re going to be okay now,” he said smiling, but at the same time, enfolding her in his embrace. “Thank you, for everything you’ve done,” he said as he lightly touched one side of her face.

Scott waited a moment until Paul and Svetlana’s embrace ended and he approached her shyly. He did not know if he could look at her without feeling teary-eyed. Instead, he reached for her hand. “This is the hardest part of our lives, leaving behind the people who after such a short period of time have become like family to us.”

Svetlana raised her head and looked at him and smiled through the tears, which had started to stream down her cheeks. She put her finger over his lips, leaned over towards him, and gave him a quick kiss.

After a long hug, she separated from Scott, wiped the tears from her eyes, and watched them as they walked over towards their car.

“I hope that one day we can settle down, Scott. I don’t like it that you always have to leave people you become fond of,” Paul was saying as they walked. He turned briefly around to see that Svetlana and Max were waving at them. Raising his hand he offered a casual wave.

Scott nodded sadly, but after a second, he dismissed it with the same panache as he had done in St Leon. “Oh the places we have been and the people we have seen,” he said with a grin on his face. Seconds later, they reached the car and were getting in. “Dad, I don’t think I could have kept going without you. We couldn’t have stayed even if we wanted to, we still have to find Mom,” Scott said. “I don’t think I would want to stay here knowing that she’s out there somewhere by herself.”

Paul nodded, “I know.”

Scott fidgeted uncomfortably as Paul started the engine, but looked over at his father. “Do you think Svetlana is going to be okay?” he finally asked. “I mean it seems like it would be really hard for someone like her being the only one of her kind but also being so far away from home.”

“Maybe, but I think she now has a new appreciation for her uniqueness,” Paul said, all the while remembering the lecture she gave Wylie before they left the apartment that last time. “She’s one person who could teach this world about how words can have more power than a fist.”

“What do you mean?” Scott asked noticing the smile that was on his father’s face.

“Well, let’s just say that today, she taught two very stubborn men about some of the things they may take for granted everyday,” Paul said as he drove in the direction of the interstate highway that would lead them out of town.

The End


End file.
